Even the King of Brooklyn Needs a Queen
by brooklyn-babe1899
Summary: Rae ran away from her abusive father to live out her dreams on a New York stage. She is met by Jack, Davey, and Les on a train and they drag her into their lives. She's a newsie by day and diva by night, will she catch the attention of the Brooklyn king?
1. Runaway

Even the King of Brooklyn Needs a Queen

When I heard my father's snores from his room, I tip-toed to my window while trying to avoid the creaky floorboards of the old house under my feet. Once I could feel the draft from the other side of the glass on my face, I slowly scraped the window open. I then swung my feet over the ledge and jumped onto the fire-escape with my bag in tow. The December air chilled me to my core even through my floor-length wool coat. Without making a conscious decision, I began to run. I had planned this out so many times; I could run it in my sleep. I ran 6 miles through Philadelphia from my humble home on Tulip Street. I became tired and settled on walking briskly along the Delaware in the dark. The breeze from the water made me shiver and I picked up my pace on Vine Street. I then crossed the Schuylkill and I cloud see my first destination: 30th Street Station. I passed sleeping bums and beggars and watched drunks stumble through the night. I sprinted to buy a ticket to catch the last train of the night. I reluctantly pulled out my life savings to pay the drowsy clerk. I was going to New York. It was far enough from home but not too far so I could afford it.

I kept my eyes down to "mind the gap". I stepped into the carriage and I was alone with the conductor. He quickly blew a whistle and hurried into a different car, leaving me to my thoughts. I stared out the window in to the black void of night but gave up on a count of I couldn't see anything and it was a little creepy. My head lolled back as I fell into the first nightmare-less sleep I'd had in months.

I woke up, what I assumed was hours later, at another station. I could see a sign under a lantern next to the tracks. It read, "Trenton". Three people clambered into my car. They were boys. Two looked about my age and also very tired. The first had long-ish brown hair that parted in the middle to fall to either side of his face. His hair framed his chocolate eyes, ski-slope nose, light pink lips, and strong jaw. The second one was slightly shorter and had short honey brown, curly hair that dangled just above his thick brow and steel blue eyes. I couldn't help but stare almost longingly at his carnation colored lips and prominent Cupid's bow. The third boy was much smaller. He had very little features. His straight mousy brown hair hung low on his face almost covering his glistening chestnut eyes. They all had newsy hats on but removed them when they noticed my presence.

"Hi" the small one said, "my name's Les!" he exclaimed with an outstretched hand. I shook it with a smile. "This is my brother, David" he said pointing to the curly, blue eyed one "and this is our friend, Jack" he introduced.

"Hi Les, David, and Jack, I'm Rae." I said as they sat across the aisle from me. Jack waved in my direction before pulling his hat down so it covered his eyes and leaning against the window.

"Where do you get off?" Les inquired while putting his feet in the aisle so he faced me.

"Grand Central," I answer, mirroring his position.

"That's where we get off too. Are you from Manhattan?" David asked, joining our conversation.

"No, I'm from Philadelphia. I'm running away at the moment . . ." I trailed off, wondering if I should trust people that I just met.

"What are you running from?" Les asked me, looking concerned but David kicked him in the shin to shut him up. I gave him a wary but thankful smile.

"Do you guys know of anywhere I could stay?" I asked and Jack gave up on trying to sleep.

"You could stay with Medda." Jack offered.

"Who?" I asked but felt stupid because Les and David had nodded eagerly at his suggestion and I didn't even know who they were talking about.

"She's a friend of ours and owns a place we like to hang out at." He explained and handed me a flyer. There was a picture of a beautiful woman with auburn hair and blue eyes, on a stage, with a gorgeous dress. I gawked at the backup dancers and colorful lights; wishing I could be doing that. It's been my dream to be on stage, not to be famous but to have fun and make people happy.

"Oh wow, do you think she's hiring? It's my dream to be on stage." I asked Jack after coming out of my daydream.

"I'm sure she'd have to consider a beautiful girl like you." Jack flirted but was quickly stop by David who elbowed him in the ribs and whisper-yelled "You're dating my sister!"

I felt awkward so I thanked them and went back to sleep in an uncomfortable up-right position.

Once again, when I awoke, we were at a new station but this time I had Les almost in my lap screaming,

"Rae! Rae, wake up! We're here!"

"I'm up, Les." I mumbled and stood to grab my bag but found it was already on the floor next to a antsy Les, a groggy Jack, and a smiling but indifferent David. I picked it up, tossed it over my shoulder and hiked up my skirt to walk down the steep steps in my heels. I got an odd look from a man, who had tried to help me down the stairs, when I ignored him and jumped down from the second-to-last step. I walked expeditiously in front of the boys to get to the large staircase the lead up to the street.

I gasped when we reached the street level. I had been to NYC when I was young with my aunt many times because she was on Broadway before she died, but the city that never sleeps never ceased to amaze me.

The boys lead me up 5th Avenue and through Central park to the Newsies' Lodging House at W 96th and Broadway. Here, Jack ran inside saying he was too tired and handed me off to a boy he called Racetrack. David and Les had to go home as well, so Racetrack walked with me down Broadway to Medda's. Race was a smart-mouthed Italian boy with, what looked to be, the softest mocha hair I'd ever seen ,that he often ran his hands through, and big black-coffee-colored eyes that sparkled with mischief. He also had a cigar in his hand that I eyed with wanting. We walked silently until I spoke up,

"Race, got anymore cigars?" I asked him pathetically because I hadn't had a smoke in, seemingly, forever.

He almost laughed before digging into a pocket inside his jacket. He pulled out a cigar and gave it to me. I placed it in my mouth and without my having to ask; he pulled out a match as well and lit my cigar. I giggled, "Thanks," I smiled up at him.

He was about to reply when we arrived outside of Medda's. He knocked and the woman I had seen on Jack's flyer appeared at the door. She ushered us inside to escape the cold on night.

"Racetrack, would you like to introduce me to your friend?" She asked though it wasn't really a question.

"Yes ma'am, this is Rae. Cowboy, Davey, and Les met her on the train." Race informed her and then added, "She needs a place to stay a– "

I cut him off, "and ma'am, if there's an opening, I'd like to inquire about a job as well." I said bashfully even though that trait was nowhere near my usual self.

"I can certainly find room for Miss Rae." She then turned toward Race, "Thank you for bringing her but it's late and I believe you have papes to sell tomorrow." She finished in a motherly tone. Racetrack nodded at us both and put his hat back on his head to walk into the night.

I was then let alone with Medda and she smiled down at me. "Thank you so much!" I squealed and put out my cigar to hug her.

"It's no problem at all and I actually need a new dancer because my best quit yesterday." She smiled at me and continued, "But you probably won't be able to sleep here for very long. All I have besides my bed is a couch which you will have to sleep on." Her smile turned apologetic as she informed me of this.

"A couch is perfectly fine until I can find other arrangements." I assured her.

"Well dear, I know it's late and you must be tired, but the girls are on stage now practicing for tomorrow night's show and you have to learn it." I thought she was kidding but her face showed no such emotion and I quickly made my way to the stage and tried to follow along with the other girls.


	2. Brooklyn Bound

I woke up the next morning to a knock at the door. I didn't dare open my eyes I just listened and pretended to still be in a blissful sleep. I heard Medda's stilettos click on the hardwood but the sound changed to shuffling when she came to the rug by the door. There was a click of the lock, the knob jiggled, the door swished across the carpet, and Medda stepped back to the wood. I heard multiple people come inside but wasn't sure how many.

"Hi boys, what brings you over so early?" Medda asked.

"Well, I guess word of our little party tonight made its way across the bridge because Brooklyn wants to come." a boy I thought was Jack said and another voice began to speak as well but they were drowned out from my ears when I heard lighter footsteps coming over to my side of the room .

I prayed no one would notice me but my prayers went unanswered. "Hey, look! It's Rae!" Les practically shouted and I shot up in faux-shock. I then rubbed my eyes at the light of day and grabbed one of Medda's silk robes to cover my nightwear from the boys I barely knew and one I had never even seen before. I looked at myself in the vanity mirror on the opposite wall. My honey blonde hair had fallen into waves around my shoulders and there were bags under my dark brown eyes. I wasn't wearing makeup or clothes so I rushed into Medda's dressing room without a word.

When I emerged again, I had the attention of the room. I wore a pale blue, cotton dress that synched at the waist with a white ribbon. My hair was tied back with a matching ribbon so that just a few curls bounced next to my ears. "Good morning," I greeted them as the unknown boy in the corner stared at me. His gaze traveled from my worn, white, heeled boots to my exposed collarbone and finally resting on my eyes. I stared at him as well. I studied his tattered, leather shoes and his brown trousers (that fit him _very _well) that were attached to his tan shirt by red suspenders. I then tried to take in every detail of his face. He had golden hair that hid under his hat, questioning eyebrows of the same color, deep-set, corn-flower blue eyes, a button nose, and full, rose petal lips. His mouth widened into a smirk when he caught my eye with his.

Everyone seemed to take note of our silent observations. Jack coughed and shattered the moment. "Spot, this is Rae. Rae, meet Spot." He introduced us and Spot held out his hand. I put mine in his and he slowly lifted my hand to his lips. I wasn't planning on being flirted with, so I moved our hands down and turned it into a handshake instead. Jack almost laughed but contained himself when Spot shot him a glare that could silence anyone. I blushed at my awkwardness.

"We're all coming to the show tonight, Rae." Les interjected; not understanding what was unfolding in front of him. I turned to him when everyone else ignored his attempt at conversation.

"That's great, Les. I hope I don't make a fool of myself; I only learned the choreography yesterday." I confessed to the boy while staring at my feet.

"Don't worry, Rae; I'm sure you'll do great!" Less said in a reassuring voice then hugged my leg.

"Thanks, Les; that means a lot." I said bending down to his level and kissing his cheek.

"Come on, Romeo. We have papes to sell." Jack told him while grabbing his collar and pulling him out the door. "See you tonight!" he called after Spot and I.

Medda went into her dressing room leaving me alone with Spot. We took this as our queue to leave. We walked out into the street to start the day. I shivered; it was even colder here than at home. I turned around to go back inside to get a sweater but the door was locked. I then pressed my ear against the door and heard Medda's shower running, there's no way she could hear if I knocked. Feeling defeated, I just settled on being cold. "So, what do you do around here?" I asked Spot because I didn't have anything planned until tonight.

"I have to sell papes. So, unless you want to learn, I suggest finding someone else to hang out with." He said in a semi-harsh tone.

"Really, you could teach me to be a newsie?" I queried eagerly.

"Yeah, you'd be the first girl, Brooklyn newsie." He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. ", but first we have to get back to Brooklyn; I don't sell in 'Hattan." He told me and then began to walk hastily. We had, unbeknownst to me, started an eight mile walk to Brooklyn. I had to almost run to keep up with Spot and his cane. We were going so fast that I couldn't perceive the goings-on and bustle of the city around me. I was becoming short of breath at 27th, dizzy by 19th, I tried to remember the last time I ate at Union Square, my peripheral vision became fuzzy on 10th, and finally, I passed out on the sidewalk on Waverly Place.

"Rae, are you okay?!" I heard Spot say but he sounded so far away


	3. Memories Creep Back

**A/N: I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy. This chapter is a little longer to make up for it.**

I gasped and scrambled to a sitting position. "She's up!" a small boy yelled and ran from the room. I realized a throbbing headache and fell back. Thankfully, my head landed on a semi-soft pillow. Once I was comfortable again, I took in my surroundings with a deep breathe. I was in a bedroom. It was dingy but cozy. The curtains were drawn but it was dark outside. I was in a bed; there was a table next to it and a trunk at the foot. To my right was a chest of drawers with an oil lamp on it. There were various socks and sleeves sticking out from the drawers. On my left was a desk in front of the aforementioned window with drawn curtains. Directly in front of me was a door. As my eyes scanned the stained wood of the entryway, it burst open. I sat up more successfully this time. Spot came into the room with the small boy I had seen before.

"Could someone explain to me what's going on?" I asked more severely than I had intended. I suddenly felt very restrained in the bed so I drew the covers from my body and swung my legs over the side. I came face to face with myself in a mirror above the chest of drawers. My hair hung over my shoulders in slightly knotted curls, I had makeup smeared under my eyes, and I wasn't wearing my clothes. I was wearing a large button-down shirt and that was it! I pulled out the collar and peered down. I sighed in relief that I was wearing my corset, stockings, and garters. No one responded to my question. "Spot, what happened?" I asked again, becoming infuriated with my confusion.

"We were running and you passed out." He paused and then spoke again. "I don't really know why though . . ." he seemed embarrassed.

"Well," I began and stood up dizzyingly "I haven't eaten or slept very much recently and I think I did my corset a little tight this morning." I blushed at my inability to take care of myself and at the mention of my undergarments.

"That explains it, I guess." He said falling into his authoritative role. "Turtle, go get her some soup." He shouted at the little boy to overcompensate for the slip of compassion he had shown. Turtle quickly made his way out of the room and down the stairs, assumingly, to make soup.

"Spot, I don't need soup," I said and then remembered the show tonight "I have to go!" I squealed and pulled on a random pair of pants and my shoes. "See you at Medda's!" I called after a bewildered Spot and ran down the stairs. I almost ran into someone on the way down and realized it was Turtle. "No thanks, kid." I ruffled his hair and then continued on my way through, what seemed to be, the Brooklyn lodging house getting strange stares from boys.

I was on a mission. I ran into the night and caught a glimpse of the clock tower. It was seven. I had an hour to get to Medda's and get dressed. There was no way I would try to run again so I hopped on the back of a cart that had crates in the back and hid from the driver. As I hoped, he began to go over the bridge.

With the vibrating of the cart underneath me and my exhaustion it was easy to fall asleep. It wasn't long before I entered REM sleep and nightmares ensued.

_I was nine years old again. I was in my room playing with my porcelain doll, when my father came home. He was drunk. He was always drunk. He slammed the front door and I ran out of my room with a rag in my hand pretending I had been cleaning the hall the whole time. I heard his work boots slam up the stairs. I tried not to start crying right there. It's worse when he sees me cry. He came into the hallway and immediately saw the doll I was trying to hide. "Why can't you do anything right?!" he screamed at me and took the doll from behind my back. _

_ "I wasn't playing, I promise!" I wailed and reached for the doll. He practically turned red in the face and threw the doll at the wall. I whimpered as it's pale skin and pink cheeks shattered on the hard wood floor._

_ "Don't lie, everything is your fault!" he shouted and broke the bottle that was in his hand against the edge of a table. He then stumbled, threw the bottle in my direction and careened into his bedroom._

My chest heaved and I was brought back to reality. I sat up in the cart and felt the scar on my collarbone where the bottle hit me that night. I caught my breath and noticed I was on the Upper East Side. I rolled out when the cart came to a stop and made my way across the park. Soon enough I was in front of Medda's. I knocked on the backstage door and was yanked inside.

"Where have you been?" Minnie, another dance, pulled me inside then looked at my clothing "And what are you wearing?"

"Long story," was all I said before rushing to the dressing room.

Tonight's outfit was pink. The corset was satin with lacey ruffles and swirls made of glitter on the ribs. It had a sweetheart neckline with a bow just under my cleavage. The skirt was made of feathers and was practically non-existent in the front but longer in the back. Thigh-high stockings were attached to my knickers with ribbon and my heels were garishly covered in sparkles. My hair was piled on top of my head in curls and had feathers stuck in it. My eye shadow was pink but could barely be seen behind my feathery false lashes. My cheeks were lifted by my smile and coated in rosy rouge. I felt confident and beautiful for the first time in a long time.

My confidence faltered slightly when we actually stepped on the stage. Medda wasn't on yet. It was just us dancers. I was surprised when I actually remembered the choreography.

_Chassé, fan-kick_, _pas de bourreé, pirouette, ronds de jambe, cabriole; _the ballet training I had as a little girl was coming in handy and I was keeping up with the other girls. I smiled out at the crowd of, mostly, newsies and found Spot's eye on me as well as Racetrack's. I almost giggled and I felt amazing.

When Medda came out, we all stepped back into a chorus line and sang the backup vocals to one of the songs she'd sang during last year's strike. Everyone was watching Medda except Spot. He was staring at me, not far from, dreamily. When I quirked my brow at him, he quickly put on an emotionless face and moved his gaze. I felt triumphant but kind of disappointed.

The other girls made their way back stage after our performance, but I went into the crowd of newsies. "Hey, guys!" I greeted cheerily and took a drink from a server named Ida. No one said anything. They just looked at me. Jack openly stared at my chest with a stupid grin on his face, Davey blushed furiously, Spot smirked, Racetrack shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly and everyone else had already joined the party that had formed around us. Les walked into our group and the sexual tension went right over his head.

"Rae, you were great up there." He told me and I felt the uneasiness of the situation recede.

"Thanks, Les. I'm glad you enjoyed it." I smiled down at him with gratitude.

The other boys tossed in things like "Yeah, good job." And "You looked nice." Eventually everyone joined the party and I walked over to Spot. I was a little tipsy and feeling flirty so I knew I'd probably act like a hot mess, but I didn't care.

"Hey" I giggled and placed my hand on the top button of his shirt.

"Hi, Rae" He said smoothly even though if I had as much to drink as him I'd be slurring and stumbling.

"Spot, I'm drunk." I whined and pouted out my bottom lip.

He chuckled; "I know" and pulled over a chair for me to sit in.

"I don't like being drunk." I admitted and my eyes glazed over, and I tried agonizingly to keep tears from staining my cheeks. I pushed memories of my father out of my mind and gulped whatever was sitting at a nearby table.

The events of the rest of the night were hazy. There was crying; lots of crying. I may have told Spot my whole life story. I may have tried to make out with Spot as well. I vaguely remember Spot carrying me home, putting me in his bed, and insisting on sleeping on the floor.


	4. Does He Even Feel The Same Way?

I awoke on the floor. My limbs were tangled in Spot's and a slightly scratchy blanket. I never wanted to move from this position. I felt amazing. I could feel Spot's breath on top of my head, my cheek against his bare chest, his shoulder under my right hand and my left hand on his sculpted stomach. He had his left arm around both my shoulders and his right hand under my knee; holding my left leg across his thighs. We were both wearing what we had last night except Spot had lost his shirt and me my shoes. I tried to go back to sleep so we could stay like this for as long as possible.

My dreams were shattered into smithereens when Spot's bedroom door collided into the adjacent wall and multiple newsies burst in. "Spot, wake up! We got papes to sell!"

Spot and I shot up in the same moment and crashed our hung-over heads together. "Uhhhhh," Spot and I moaned and rubbed our temples. All the boys almost laughed but contained themselves when Spot shot them his grueling stare. Then they all filed out the door and left us with pounding headaches and accelerated heart beats.

"Um, I should go." I mumbled and almost cried from embarrassment.

"Rae, don't be such a girl." Spot said as he looked around the room for his shirt.

"Too bad, Conlon; I _am_ a girl." I slipped on my shoes and grabbed a random shirt from the floor and pulled it over my outfit. "What happened last night, Spot?" I asked, sitting on the bed and putting my head in my hands. "I mean, what happened with us?"

"Well, I remember you being quite a mess." He scratched the back of his neck and I felt as though I may faint. "You told me about your father and started about your mother but I didn't catch most of it because you were crying so hard . . ." he trailed off and my lip quivered.

"Did anything _else_ happen?" I asked referring to our waking up tangled together.

"No, I don't think so." I don't know what happened to my filter that moment, but I said what I knew we were both thinking,

"Did you want anything to happen?" I challenged but slapped my hand over my mouth right after the words met his ears. I blushed madly and avoided his determination to make eye contact.

"Maybe, did you want anything to happen?" He teased with a classic smirk.

"Maybe . . ." I stepped forward so we were just inches apart. Spot closed the gap and leaned down, putting his forehead against mine. "Like I said, I should go." I said and our lips grazed as I spoke.

Just as I was about to step away, Spot pulled me back to him. "Not so fast." He whispered and wrapped his fingers around the lapels of the men's shirt I wore. Before I could react, our lips were joined. He held my top lip gently between his. I slid my hands slowly up his chest, onto the back of his neck and then tangling my fingers in his hair. He lightly tugged on my lip with his teeth and I parted my mouth with a gasp. Our tongues began to battle but I knew he wouldn't let me win so I submitted and let him dominate. I pushed him back onto his bed and things got heated.

Spot missed selling papes today. I never made it to the show at Medda's. What I wanted to happen last night happened. What the guys had laughed about this morning actually occurred. I became a little less innocent. I started to fall in love, but I didn't know if it was mutual. I may have been new but I knew of Spot's reputation.

I woke up and looked at the analog clock on the wall. It was nine. Medda would be pissed. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't live with Spot. I was afraid he would take advantage of me. There's no way he thinks of me how I think of him. I looked at Spot on the other side of the bed. I felt tears start to pour down my cheeks and made no attempt to stop them. I took a random shirt and pair of pants and left the room I hoped I wouldn't see again. I walked shamefully down the stairs past Turtle and the rest of the Brooklyn guys. Turtle smiled at me similarly to the way Les did. "Bye, kid." I ruffled his hair and walked out the door. I heard the newsies start talking about me when the thin door closed.

"I guess that's this week's slut." One guy said and the others laughed.

"Guys, stop being mean. I like Rae." I heard Turtle butt in. I smiled scarcely but continued to cry. I got into a cart filled with newspapers that I knew was going to the distribution center in Manhattan. I curled into a ball and put my head on a ream of paper. I knew another bad dream was coming.

_I was eight. We were walking up to the house. I wore a black dress and my father had on a suit of the same color. We had just gotten back from my mother and aunt's funeral. They died of yellow fever. My father blamed me. It really was my fault. My mother caught it from me and my aunt from her. I survived. It should've been me. I had survivor's guilt. My father had rubbed it in my face every day since then. The funeral was the first day of seven years of Hell. _

_ When we got inside, he immediately started drinking hard liquor. I had never seen him drink anything besides wine at dinner. I hid in my room. I felt scared he was acting different and I hated it. He lumbered into my room as I was crying the corner. "What, you're not happy that you ruined everything?"_

_ "I didn't want them to get sick! I'm sorry!" I sobbed and tried to hide from him._

_ "You're so stupid, Rae! Why couldn't it be you instead of them?" he stormed across my room and hit me transversely on the face for the first time in my life. The second his hand smacked me, I woke up._

I awoke panting and grabbed my cheek where he had hit me that night. I rolled out of the cart, still crying, and made my way to Irving Hall. I went in through the back to apologize to Medda.

She was sitting at her vanity and taking off her earrings. "Um, Medda?" she looked at me disappointedly at first, but her expression changed when she saw me. "I'm really sorry. I know I missed the show but something happened." I explained and wrung my hands together.

"Rae, it looks like you've been through a lot tonight, it's fine." She let me off the hook and turned back to the mirror. I walked out into the main room where the boys were partying as usual. I just sat down in a corner and took a drink from Ida. I didn't drink the beer that sat in front of me, I just stared at it. I let tears freely fall down my face.

"Rae, are you okay?" I shot up and my tear stained face was met with a concerned looking Racetrack.

"No, Race, I'm not."


End file.
